


Last Friday night

by unmeiboy



Category: Johnny's Entertainment, Kis-My-Ft2 (Band)
Genre: Accidental Sex, Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Clubbing, Drunk Sex, M/M, Roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-11
Updated: 2016-09-11
Packaged: 2018-08-14 12:35:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8014237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unmeiboy/pseuds/unmeiboy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One night both Senga and Nikaido return alone to their shared room after clubbing; the following day they find themselves in a situation they never expected to be in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Last Friday night

“... Why?” Senga asks when Nikaido catches up with him in the stairs to their dorm room. “I thought you were spending the night in a hotel.”  
“She left.” Nikaido sounds very displeased, and Senga tries to ignore the small differences in his appearance; hair a little disheveled, lips puffy from kissing, pants perhaps a little tighter than before and if he tried, he's sure he could have smelled the arousal.  
“Which one? The one with the judging face?”  
“She wasn't judging anyone, just looked cold. But she was so pretty.” He sighs in what could be frustration.  
“True.”  
“And even prettier when I got her alone.” They've gotten to the door and Senga is unlocking it as they speak.  
“So why did she leave?” Nikaido's seduction methods rarely fail, and if they do he usually manages to get a different girl with him. In fact, this is the first time ever they both come home after a night out looking for hook-ups.  
“I don't know, honestly, but I'm not a douche, won't run after her.” He pauses as he takes off his shoes, and Senga does the same, wavering a little when he's balancing on one foot. Still drunk. “She let me finger her right there in the club. On the way to the bathrooms? That corner, you know?” Senga nods in response. “She kissed me back and she was so wet and tight and it felt really good...” Nikaido must be quite intoxicated too, perhaps even worse than Senga, because while they've discussed sex a lot before, he usually doesn't go into these kinds of details. “You know how it feels, when they're really turned on.”

Senga swallows hard once, takes a discreet step away from Nikaido, into their shared room.  
“Yeah.”  
“I swear she wanted it. She was so hot.” He shrugs his jacket off and when he gets inside, in front of their mirror to remove his necklace, he continues. “I really wanted to fuck her. Preferably all night.”  
“I can tell,” Senga jokes, eyes him in what he hopes isn't too awkward. Nikaido's story is getting him a little more interested than it should. He blames the alcohol.  
“I think I still smell like her,” he says then, which Senga takes as a prompt and steps closer, tries to separate the smell of smoke from any kind of perfume. He can feel Nikaido's body heat even though they aren't touching, which he ignores and instead just sniffs the air around Nikaido's head.  
“... Maybe.”

Then Nikaido looks at him, straight in his eyes, and he sees the arousal now, dark and intriguing. It's quite an awkward moment, until Nikaido draws a quick breath.  
“... I think I need the bathroom.” Something tells Senga he knows why and he steps to the side, or what he thinks is the side Nikaido isn't going to choose, and they bump into each other.

They bump into each other, front to front, and Nikaido moans.

Senga pretends he didn't hear anything, like he didn't feel Nikaido hard against him, but now Nikaido isn't moving, if anything he bumps against him again, maybe a little on purpose. And maybe Senga is the first to come closer, or it's Nikaido, but they lean in and the kiss that follows is more a crash than anything else, Nikaido's hands rougher in Senga's hair, on his body, than anyone else's ever have been, pulling him close enough that Senga becomes the provider of the contact he so desperately needs. And when they break apart he expects both Nikaido and himself to be awkward and say sorry and for Nikaido to go hide in the bathroom, but the hands on him are firm and then they're kissing again.

He has never ever considered kissing Nikaido, even though watching him picking up girls can be pretty hot, but now he's there, tongue against Nikaido's and a hand on his lower back as if to hold him in place while Nikaido rocks subtly against him; a hand that eventually slides down to cup his ass and squeeze. Senga recognizes the way he handles him as the same way he often ends up handling girls when he's drunk, horny and about to have sex with them; his subconscious tells him he understands now why the girls don't mind it. There's an urgency in it that makes his blood rush, that makes his breathing speed up even though he's not being touched directly, a strength in Nikaido's arms around him that isn't rough, but firm and steady despite Nikaido definitely not being steady otherwise. So he doesn't protest when Nikaido clumsily backs the two meters to his bed, sits on it with a low thump, and pulls Senga with him down, lips still connected. Senga never really sat on anyone's lap like that before, but Nikaido guides him, makes him straddle his lap and it works well until Senga tries to shift while Nikaido tugs on his waist to make him move in closer; he loses his balance and Nikaido is suddenly on his back. One of his hands is tangled in Senga's brown locks of hair, keeps him within kissing distance; Senga feels his muscles jump when his other hand lands on his waist, seeks out the bottom of his shirt, then slides all the way up his torso. The loose t-shirt follows, naturally, and Senga has to pry Nikaido's hand out of his hair to duck out of it when he takes it off himself.

For a second he hesitates then, suddenly getting perspective on what's going on, but he gets tugged down again, a hand grabs his wrist and shoves it down to Nikaido's crotch; he rubs his hand against the bulge there and he feels the result moaned against his lips. Some more pressure and Nikaido's hips jerk against him, then with the same urgency as the kissing Nikaido's free hand starts working on the fastenings of his own pants. He tries, fumbles with the button, pauses when Senga rubs along the outline of his cock as if he can't possibly concentrate on both things at once, tries again but then gives up. Shirts are easier, Senga assumes, because Nikaido manages to get his own off at the first try, and before he knows it Senga is helping him getting his pants open. It's still Nikaido who pushes them out of the way, urges Senga's hand to wrap around his erection in the same way Senga has done a lot before, only never to any of his friends.  
 _“You too.”_ The words are barely spoken, more like mouthed against his own mouth, and now Nikaido lets go of his hair. It gives Senga the space to get his pants open and pushed down; Nikaido tries to kick his own jeans off while simultaneously fumbling around for something under his bed. In the end Senga tugs at the ends of his pants and they come off followed by his underwear, and Nikaido is half sitting up when he turns back. His hair is messy and lips swollen, Senga assumes he looks the same but he can't imagine he looks as erotic as Nikaido does; cock twitching further down but just as he's about to reach for it Nikaido leans in to kiss him again, meets his hand with his own, and the item it's holding.

It's an item that makes Senga's mind head straight in one direction, and his body follows rapidly. It's a bottle of lubrication and he gets it open without too much struggle despite being unable to look; Nikaido seems to have no problems having his legs urged apart, nor does he have any when Senga moves in between them. What he has in front of him doesn't really bother Senga, anal shouldn't work differently with a man, he assumes, and he brings his hand between Nikaido's thighs without another thought to it. Nikaido does tense up when Senga's slick fingertips rub over his opening, yelps when he slides a finger inside him, but he keeps being just as responsive to the kissing so Senga continues.

By the time Senga is fucking him slowly with two fingers, about to insert a third, Nikaido is no longer tense except for thighs and abs as he uses them to move back against the intrusion; he's moaning and breathing and doesn't try to kiss him anymore, but the hand is still in Senga's hair. Tighter now than before, so much that it almost hurts, but Senga thinks he likes it. He's at least not getting any less harder from it, and Nikaido's gasps add to his arousal too. Maybe it's the alcohol or maybe he's just enjoying it that much, but the third finger goes in surprisingly easily and within short Senga deems him ready. Senga moves in even closer, gets some more lube on his cock; when he positions the head of it against Nikaido's stretched hole there's sudden tension in the body below him, Nikaido's wide eyes looking up at him, a startled expression on his face, but when Senga starts pushing his eyelids close again and what escapes him is definitely a moan. From then it escalates quickly, Nikaido's hands moving from Senga's shoulders and waist to his own cock and then back up, like he can't make up his mind on what he wants to touch; it's a little cute but it's also not something that Senga keeps thinking about while he fucks him increasingly harder.  
“Shit, shit, shit,” Nikaido is stuttering while stroking his cock, and just when Senga thinks he might be about to let go again, move his hands back up to Senga, he goes even faster before he chokes on a moan, semen spurting onto his own abdomen, and Senga forces his cock through the tightness around it. The reflex to pull out as he comes is as strong as always, and he does, finishes himself off with a groan, watches his come mix with Nikaido's on his smooth, pale skin. He lets himself come down before he moves, just kind of pulls back and sits on the edge of the bed while attempting to ruffle his own hair into place. Nikaido stays on his back for half a minute, then sits up with a low groan before he without a word stands up and heads for the bathroom. Left on the bed is Senga, debating whether to stay there until Nikaido is back, or if he should get in his own bed and just go to sleep. In the end he opts for his own bed, and when Nikaido exits the bathroom in a cloud of steam he just turns the light off.  
“Goodnight,” says Senga, carefully, but Nikaido responds like he always does, complete with the usual yawn.

If he hadn't had any drinks that night he would probably had trouble sleeping, but it's not until the next morning that reality hits him. Senga lies awake in his bed for a good thirty minutes just reflecting over what happened, and what might possibly have happened to his and Nikaido's friendship. Will it continue in a different way? Or what if they ruined it, what if it can't go back to what it was? And even if they can't, they still have another year to live in the same room. Senga find himself deciding to start looking for a new room (even though it's not what he really wants to do, because he likes it here, with Nikaido), but right then Nikaido speaks up.  
“Senga.”  
“... Yeah?”  
“Yesterday never happened.” Senga takes it that Nikaido wants to carry on like usual, to stay friends. It's weird how relieved Senga feels at Nikaido's denial.

The relief doesn't last very long, though.

Everything is not entirely like it used to be. Nikaido talks to him but he doesn't look at him like he used to, like he's avoiding long-lasting eye contact. They still go to campus together and they joke like they used to but Nikaido stiffens a little whenever they touch, be it by accident or not, before he moves away, and it feels so unnatural to Senga that he can hardly imagine continuing this for any long period of time.

But it's not only Nikaido who is different. Senga doesn't think a lot about it until a couple days later, when he's sitting on his bed with his laptop on his lap, earphones plugged in. He knows Nikaido is showering, but it still startles him when he steps out of the bathroom wearing only a pair of sweatpants. Not because it's unusual for him to do so, mostly because he looks up at the sudden movement he couldn't have predicted by sound thanks to the music in his ears, and his mind serves him a flashback image of that same smooth skin stained with both of their come. He feels his cheeks heating and he averts his eyes before Nikaido has the chance to notice and ask what's going on.

After that instant, it becomes difficult to pretend last weekend didn't happen.

He manages until Friday because he's busy with lectures, tries to be asleep or occupied with his laptop when Nikaido is changing or showering or not wearing enough clothes since it all has his mind wandering back and he should be forgetting about it. Senga is sure Nikaido is trying to forget about it. Apart from the little avoiding tendencies he has developed they're the same as long as Nikaido is wearing clothes, and Senga does think they might be able to go back to normal. Until he closes his eyes at night and sees Nikaido's messy hair, hears the echo of his rushed breaths and he only stops himself from jerking off to the memories because he feels bad for not putting in the same effort as Nikaido does.

But Friday means clubbing, or has done nearly every week the past two years, and clubbing is what he and Nikaido do together. So while he usually doesn't even have to ask, this Friday he asks when they get up in the morning.  
“Clubbing tonight?” Senga is doing his hair as he asks, looks as casual as he can even though his heart is beating faster with nervousness he isn't sure why he's feeling.  
“I don't know,” is the hesitating answer. “I think I'll decide after getting the assignments today.”

Senga gets straight away that Nikaido is just making up an excuse; never before has he prioritized studies over drinking or clubbing. What he doesn't expect is that that's the last time they talk all day.

_“Sorry, can't go tonight”_

He gets the answer in a text message. A text message. At first Senga is a little upset that Nikaido won't tell him to his face, but he calms down when he reminds himself that it's really only been a week and that Nikaido maybe needs some time to himself. There's not a lot of alone time when you live together, so he decides to be considerate. He does however call a couple of other friends and makes plans to go out. To him, that is what pretending like nothing happened is, and when the friends wonder why Nikaido isn't coming too, he just tells them he wasn't in the mood.

Harlem is just like any other Friday night – filled with university students, hairstyles on point and clothes carefully chosen, drinks in hands and vibrant lights moving in time with the beat of the music. Senga likes it there, feels at home, dances with his friends then loses them along the way only to find them by the bar when his own glass is empty. With a new, filled glass, he ventures back onto the dance floor, feels the alcohol spread in his body as he moves, and he feels a lot more confident he can be the usual Senga now.

Only, what he thinks is the usual Senga ends up chatting up a handsome guy in tight pants, shorter than himself, who gives him his number and nothing else. Well, perhaps not _chatting up_ , just conversing, but the guy has nice thighs and even though Senga doesn't remember his name he has a hard time getting them out of his mind. Next time he sees him he might chat him up for real, Senga thinks, then realizes that he's not exactly being the usual Senga, more like a slightly less straight version of himself. Which doesn't bother him, rather fires him up more when he spots a familiar face across the room.

At first he thinks it's a mistake, but he still heads towards where he thinks he saw Nikaido. He's gone when he gets there, but a look along the wall and he sees a just as familiar back, an arm laid around the back of a young woman as he walks her to the slightly secluded corner Senga knows he usually takes them to. Senga follows them discreetly, and isn't the slightest surprised when he peeks around the wall that shoots out in front of the corner only to see them kissing. Not in a gently kind of way either, rather hungrily, Nikaido with one hand in in her hair; it looks like he's close to tugging on it, but judging by how the woman is pushing back against him, how her hands are locked tightly in the back of his neck, she doesn't seem to dislike it the tiniest bit.

Senga has never seen Nikaido like this. Yes, he has seen him kiss girls, but not like this, not like it's part of foreplay because that is definitely what this is. The hand that had been resting on her hip is now on one of her breasts, fondling it through her tight dress, and although the music in the club makes it inaudible to him, Senga can see the way she moans against his lips. He nearly moans himself when Nikaido moves his hand to the front of the girl's neck, just lays his thumb against her throat, tilts her head a little further back and he catches a glimpse of tongue every time they pull apart just enough for it.

It doesn't exactly get better when Nikaido breaks the kiss, leans in to speak into her ear and Senga sees her eyes hazy, probably thanks to both alcohol and arousal. He can't tell if her lips are puffy because of the kissing or if they were like that from the beginning; either way they're gorgeous, and he thinks he has an about idea what Nikaido is saying to her. Senga definitely knows what he would say.

Nikaido has always been the more bold one. When Senga sees the girl nodding (perhaps helped by Nikaido's hand squeezing her ass as he asks), he expects them to leave the club together. Not head towards the restrooms. But that's what happens, Nikaido keeping her close as they walk, constantly talking to her if trusting the movements of his lips, and Senga doesn't follow them any further. He leaves the corner but stays within a short distance; when they come back he sees Nikaido clearly, his cheeks still a soft pink he can't connect to anything but what happened a week ago. The arm is back around the girl's waist and both of their body languages tells Senga that they're far from done. While he watches Nikaido gesture to his friends that they're leaving Senga's mind is clouded by the idea of Nikaido receiving a blowjob in the restroom; the image he has of his face is one similar to when they accidentally had sex and be it the alcohol or not, it has arousal rushing through his body.

After that, Senga only stays for a little while. He dances to get the memories out of his head, and it works until someone brushes against him and the body contact throws him right back. He assumes he has had too much to drink if he's reacting like this, even though he's doesn't think he's that unsteady yet. His body is just focusing on one thing and if he's not picking up anyone tonight, he might as well go home already.

He has only taken about two steps outside Harlem when someone touches his shoulder and begins speaking to him.  
“You're too good-looking to go home alone.” Senga turns his head in the direction of the voice and sees the man from before, the one with the nice thighs. He's still quite attractive now that he sees him in better light, and there's a mischievous hint in his eyes that he thinks he likes.  
“You hooking me up with someone?” he asks casually, only for the man to take a short step closer to him, into his personal space.  
“Take me home,” he says, voice full of confidence and Senga isn't sure he'd be able to say no even if he wanted to.

On the way from Shibuya he explains that he lives in a dorm, that he has a roommate but that he won't be home tonight; the man looks smug and tells him that's fine (and then he reminds Senga that his name is Kitayama).

Not that he ends up using his name a lot. The first thing that happens after they get their shoes off is Kitayama pulling him down by his hair to kiss him, lips parting and tongues intertwining within a couple minutes, Kitayama's hands coming up his shirt. They trace his abs upwards, then down to his belly button, follows the trail of hair to his pants, then slowly navigates them towards the closest bed while unbuckling his belt. The thought of protesting when he realizes it's Nikaido's bed only lasts for a split second, is gone when his pants get tugged down and he's pushed to sit down. His mind spins for a moment and he tries to reach forward to steady himself on Kitayama, but he's gone; he doesn't realize to where until there's a hand around his cock and a hot breath followed by a tongue against it.

It's possibly the best blowjob he has ever received, quickly brings him so close to an orgasm that Kitayama abruptly pulls away to push him fully onto the bed, strips his own clothes off before he climbs on top of him. Senga completely misses out on from where Kitayama gets the lube, all he knows is the movement Kitayama's arm makes as he fingers himself open; it looks hot, sounds hot, and it's even hotter when he pulls them away, rolls a condom onto Senga's still saliva wet cock, then slowly, slowly sinks down on it. The moan he lets out is raw and real, forces a current of arousal through Senga's body, then delayed delivery of physical pleasure to his drunken mind.

Kitayama rides like no girl has ever ridden him, looks so, so good, but there's something that's missing from last time. From when he was with Nikaido. Senga can't quite put his finger on it, just knows there must have been something making him even more excited, something that made him come quicker. Maybe the tension. Maybe the forbidden feeling. Maybe the way Nikaido had reacted to all of it. The more he thinks of it the less sense it makes, but it also gets him closer and closer to a climax and eventually his mind tells him it's a good idea to flip them around. It turns out it isn't a bad idea at all; at least not after his mind stops spinning and he looks down to see Kitayama touching himself, breath hitching and muscles clenching and Senga fucks him right through an orgasm that makes him moan so loudly Senga would be afraid his neighbors heard him if he wasn't occupied chasing his own release.

The next morning Senga wakes up alone in his own bed, and it's not until he sees Nikaido's messy bed that it sinks in what he has actually done. What follows is panic combined with a hangover as he changes the sheets in Nikaido's bed before he even has breakfast. It's not until afterwards he realizes that maybe fresh sheets in your bed that you didn't change to yourself might be even more suspicious, but he decides that at least there is no leftover come stains in the bed Nikaido is going to sleep in.

But then it turns out that Nikaido isn't sleeping in it the following night. He doesn't come back. When he's still gone and it's Sunday night, Senga decides to message him. Sure, he might be out hooking up with more girls, but without him even coming back to change clothes, it makes Senga worry. Not about Nikaido's well-being; he can take care of himself well enough. No, he's worried that he has done something wrong. Something more. Like being caught peeking on him when he was picking up girls. Or being caught taking another man back to their apartment. At least that's all he can think of, but when he does message him, the answer isn't particularly delayed, and doesn't seem too uncomfortable.

_“I'm staying at Watta's place for a couple days”_

Nikaido has done that a few times before. Stayed at their senpai's place to get some space. It doesn't offend Senga, but it makes him worry, because he has never gone away for a reason like this. It's normally during finals weeks, or while he's working on a paper, but never because they haven't been getting along.

It's a lonely couple of days. Senga tries to study, he tries to turn his focus entirely onto it, but he finds himself listening for familiar footsteps or the sound of a key in their door. But Monday passes, then Tuesday, without a word from Nikaido. On Wednesday they have class together and he hopes Nikaido isn't skipping, because then he'll finally get to see him. See if he's okay, and see learn he has done wrong.

Nikaido doesn't skip, and he looks perfectly fine when he arrives late and sits in the back row. When their eyes meet the smile on Nikaido's face is the usual one, and so is the facial expression that follows, the one he gets when he's saying “whoops” about something he doesn't really feel very “whoops” about. Like coming late to a lecture, for example.

He worries that Nikaido will escape him once class is over (and feels like he's done nothing but worrying for over a week), but when they are dismissed and he turns around, Nikaido is waiting for him by the door.  
“Did you take notes?” Nikaido's standard line after boring lectures. “Can I see them?”  
“You can copy them. By hand.” The answer makes Nikaido groan, but he joins Senga's laughter directly after. “Going home?”  
“Yeah.” Nikaido pauses. “Watta told me to stop being a baby. I also didn't bring enough clean underwear and he didn't let me borrow anymore.”  
“Sounds like something you'd do, yeah,” Senga laughs, and until they reach their shared room he pretends like the nervousness he's feeling isn't making him nauseous at all. Like everything is normal. Even though he's ready to tell Nikaido they need to talk, that they can't possibly act like it never happened. Because it did, and at least Senga doesn't regret it. He just needs to know if Nikaido does.

But it's Nikaido who says it, as soon as they have closed the door behind them.  
“I think we should talk about the... thing.” He sits down by their small table, and Senga follows in silent agreement. “Do you wanna start?”  
Senga shakes his head. “I'll be honest with you. I don't see why it's such a big deal.” The glare he gets back tells him that it's everything but a small problem, although it softens to a non-approving glance.  
“I didn't think you'd fuck me.” It's a bitter tone in Nikaido's voice, maybe even accusing.  
“But the lube...” Only now Senga realizes that the conclusion his brain had made might not have been the only possible one.  
“For jerking off...?” Nikaido looks skeptically at Senga, like he can't believe the thought hadn't even crossed his mind, then turns his head away like it's embarrassing to keep looking at him.  
“Sorry.” They both fall silent, the accusing look gone from Nikaido's face, but still so many thoughts flying through Senga's mind. What if he forced Nikaido into something he hadn't wanted? He had looked like he enjoyed it, though. But what if he had just been too drunk to say no? But Nikaido had been holding him close, kept kissing him, he had touched and moaned. And shit, maybe it is not the time to be reminding himself of exactly what that had been like.

“It felt good.” Nikaido is still looking down at his fidgeting hands, and his voice is just a quiet whisper. “I can't stop thinking about it.” Senga can see his ears going red as he bites into his lower lip, something he does when he's not sure if what he's doing is okay; it makes him happy, even though he definitely couldn't tell Nikaido it does. At least not now.  
“So... can we stop pretending it didn't happen?”  
“No,” Nikaido looks up again, then away like the sight of Senga's face burned him, “I mean, not... I mean...” He draws a deep breath before he speaks up again. “Can it happen again?”

Senga waits until Nikaido meets his eyes again, until he keeps the contact. He looks so ashamed, so scared, but the moment Senga nods it's blown away, replaced by something that looks like relief and happiness and possibly anticipation and it looks so good on him that before he knows it himself, Senga has leaned over the corner of the table to kiss him. He momentarily worries that maybe it's too early, maybe Nikaido doesn't mean now, but then he's almost pushed over as Nikaido kisses back with what feels like held-back and denied want, only at a whole different level than what Senga has ever experience before.  
“What about the notes?” Senga asks stupidly as Nikaido is climbing on top of him, a hand tight in his hair just like back then and Senga swears only that has him twitching in his pants.  
“Fuck the notes,” Nikaido mumbles against his lips, one hand already popping the button to Senga's jeans before he shoves it into his pants, and Senga is fine with forgetting about them for now.

Nikaido is a little rougher when he's sober, Senga finds, but it's not bad at all. He gets both of them onto his bed with a firm grip on Senga's shirt, pulls on their clothes and actually gets them off their bodies mostly on his own this time, nips with his teeth when he can and holds tight on what his hands find. But he also changes when Senga gets him on his back, a lot like last time, he goes more passive, starts making the kind of soft sounds he had made, the ones that Senga has recalled ever since. It's easy to tell he enjoys it when Senga stretches him with one finger at a time, he's relaxed, hitched breaths coming now and then, cock hard against his stomach and Senga can't help but wonder.  
“Did you do this to yourself?” It's a genuine question, but it makes his own cock twitch when Nikaido nods with a moan.  
“Difficult.” He barely gets the word out as Senga strokes up his erection as he simultaneously pushes his fingers in. “Not enough.”

There's no way to tell if his own fingers hadn't been enough, or if Senga's aren't enough, or both, but the mental image his mind provides him of is so good that he's certain he'll come before he even gets close to fucking Nikaido, that he can't take hearing any more of it.  
“Ready?” He's already pulling his fingers away as he asks, is so focused on the condom that he doesn't notice Nikaido's nodding, but it doesn't matter since the legs spreading wider tells him the same thing. Nikaido is more than ready, by the look of it, and Senga can't hold back any noises when he sinks inside smoothly. Their eyes meet once when he's all the way inside; Nikaido looks away immediately, cheeks flushed with what probably isn't all arousal. Senga can't help but thinking it's really cute that he's still embarrassed, a little in denial, even when he's gasping the way he is as Senga pulls back to start thrusting.

He still isn't sure exactly what it is, but with Nikaido, the sex is everything and more than what it was with Kitayama. It feels even better, looks even better, and it might have everything to do with that it is Nikaido beneath him and no one else. Not enough for him to delve into thoughts about feelings, but maybe the strong bond they already have is what makes it so much more. Being in control but giving, receiving back the pleasure he sees mirrored on Nikaido's face, being trusted enough to be allowed to do it even when they're not drunk and desperate and stupid.

All he can see in Nikaido's eyes when he glances at them is the fulfillment of pleasure, arousal nearing the peak, and he does think about attempting to get him off while fucking him, but Nikaido is a step ahead, throwing his head back as he curls his own hand around his cock. The groan he lets out as he comes echoes in Senga's head, the same sounds as nearly two weeks ago, and as if it's a command from his own brain, he finds himself coming only a minute later.

This time they stay next to each other even after they've regained their breath. Nikaido is playing with Senga's hair, casually like he sometimes does with any of his friends, and in the middle of it he breaks the silence.  
“It doesn't have to be all the time.” He pauses, as if reconsidering his choice to speak. “I still like girls. But I think I wanna do this once in a while.”  
“Mm,” Senga hums in agreement, pushes himself up on his elbows to look down on Nikaido. “Definitely.”


End file.
